


flowers turned to dust

by perfectlyrose



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, F/M, Ghosts, just so much angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2015-08-15
Packaged: 2018-04-14 18:33:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4575276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perfectlyrose/pseuds/perfectlyrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was supposed to be a relaxing trip, a reward for both of them after a grueling week. Of course, it didn't go according to plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	flowers turned to dust

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I will warn you that there is no happy ending or even hope of a happy ending here.  
> Based on the prompt: Person B crying and screaming that they’re sorry, believing they caused Person A’s death. Person A’s ghost at their side, helplessly trying to comfort and hold someone they can no longer touch, or speak to, anymore.  
> I'm sorry.

It was supposed to be a relaxing trip, a reward for both of them after a grueling week spent in some overlord’s prison on a backwater planet and multiple occasions of running for their lives from said overlord’s minions. The Doctor had twirled around the console with an extra flourish and wink, telling Rose that they were going to Brizinad III, famous for its blue sand beaches and exclusive spas.

Of course, it didn’t go according to plan.

Oh, it seemed like it was going along swimmingly for once. They walked into one of the spas and with the psychic paper and a bit of fast talking the Doctor got them scheduled for a full range of relaxing and rejuvenating treatments.

They were in a couple’s massage, the one that the receptionist had insisted they have since the Doctor’s fast talking had included something about a honeymoon, and making silly faces at each other as their masseuses readied their supplies when everything went to hell in a flash of light and heat and a landslide of stone.

The Doctor caught a glimpse of Rose’s face as she screamed for him before everything went black.

When the Doctor came to, everything hurt. He was half buried under the rubble that used to be the walls and ceiling of the massage room and could detect at least two cracked ribs, massive bruising, a few gashes and minor burns and a ringing in his ears that drowned out everything else.

He shook his head briefly, trying to clear the noise before clearing the rubble off of him. He had to find Rose, they had to get out of here. He must have landed them at the beginning of the Uprising that tore the planet and its tourist trade to shreds.

The Doctor called out her name, the burn of his throat muscles protesting being used and the gritty pain of soot in his esophagus were the only indications he had that sound actually came out of his mouth.

He continued calling her, telling her that he was almost free and was coming to get her, that he couldn’t hear yet but he would find her. He told her not to worry.

Rose felt odd. Weightless almost, which didn’t make sense considering she was fairly sure that the explosion had partially buried her under concrete and stone. Nothing hurt and she felt like she should be worried about that but she could hear the Doctor calling her. could hear him saying that he was coming for her and that everything was going to be fine. They were going to get out of here. She smiled slightly and called back to him even though he couldn’t hear.

She didn’t open her eyes, thinking that if she didn’t see the aftermath the pain would take longer to kick in.

Finally, his legs were free and the Doctor stumbled to his feet, ignoring the pain shooting through his entire body. Rose. He had to find Rose. He slowly made his way through the smoke filled room, calling for her and listening through the ringing for any hint of an answer.

In the end he almost tripped over her.

“Rose,” he whispered, pained. His hearing was clearing up and he could hear the distress in his own voice.

Rose could hear it too. “Don’t sound so sad, Doctor. I’m sure it’s not that bad. Just get me out of here and back to the TARDIS so you can fix me up. You  _definitely_ owe me another spa trip after this.”

He didn’t answer her, just gave another anguished sound that sounded like it had been ripped from him involuntarily.

Rose opened her eyes and saw the Doctor carefully cupping the cheek of a body. Her body.

“Oh,” she said softly, kneeling down next to the Doctor as he continued to caress her lifeless face. That explained the weightlessness and lack of pain then, she thought. 

She was dead.

It was a strange thought, even stranger than staring at her own dead body.

The Doctor carefully started removing the rubble from where it covered Rose. His hands were shaking and he could barely see through the water that was welling up in his eyes. She couldn’t be gone, she couldn’t be.

Rose watched helplessly as he methodically freed her body. She tried to put a hand on his shoulder, tried to let him know that he wasn’t alone but her hand went right through him. No touch.

He removed the last piece of rubble and pulled Rose’s body into his arms, rocking her back and forth, begging her to come back, apologizing over and over for bringing her somewhere that wasn’t safe.

“I should’ve double checked the date. You’re always getting onto me for landing us in the wrong place and I still never checked.”

“Shh, it’s not your fault, Doctor. Half the fun was never knowing where or when we actually were. None of this was your fault. You were just trying to give me a nice vacation and it’s not your fault that someone blew up the spa.” Rose soothed, automatically reaching out a hand to brush away the tears that were coursing down his cheeks.

Her hand went right through him and she choked back a sob of her own. She was pretty sure she couldn’t cry as a ghost but, oh god, she wanted to.

The Doctor is just repeating her name over and over interspersed with apologies and broken reminders that she had  _promised_  him. Forever. She had promised him forever. It wasn’t supposed to end like this. She was supposed to  _be here_.

Rose wrapped her insubstantial self around him, trying to give him comfort despite him apparently not being able to hear or feel her. It was so unfair. She needed to tell him that it wasn’t his fault, that she would’ve kept her promise if she could have. Needed to tell him so many things.

She could feel herself fading, slipping out of this half-existence. With every passing moment, the feeling of weightlessness increased and Rose tried desperately to hang on, to get through to the Doctor.

She screamed at him, unsure that she was actually making any sound. She squeezed his hand and smacked the back of his head. Nothing worked. He was lost in his mourning and she was too far gone to reach him.

Rose cast a last look at the desperate way the Doctor was holding onto her body and murmuring words of apology into her hair and wished she could feel his arms around her one more time.

Wished that he could hear her as she whispered her last words in his ear and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

It was with a declaration of love, with those three words finally hanging in the air, unheard by one party, that Rose Tyler passed completely from the land of the living.

The complete return of his hearing pulled the Doctor back into himself for just a moment as he took inventory of his injuries once more, making sure none of his other senses were damaged.

His ribs screamed at him as he sat bolt upright, tightening his grip on Rose. His other senses. Maybe if he employed some of his lesser used senses, the ones that had to do with perceiving the universe in different ways, he could see Rose one last time. Maybe her spirit was still lingering somehow.

He’d never believed in that sort of thing but for Rose he was willing to believe in anything because he believed in her.

He closed his eyes and concentrated. When he opened them again he scanned the room eagerly, looking for traces of Rose.

It was empty, only rubble and the spiritless dead to keep him company.

No one bore witness to the Doctor falling apart, his last hope extinguished and leaving him a shell of a man whispering broken words of apology and love and lost chances to his departed beloved.


End file.
